After Death Knell
by jessmerrick
Summary: Sam's thoughts as she sits in the infirmary...
1. Sam's Diary

After the Death Knell  
By Jolinar@Carter  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
It has been an awful few days. I say that a lot, I know that. But it's really true. I spent hours running around on a planet, scared shitless.  
  
I really thought I was going to die.  
  
I could barely stand, near the end. Never mind run from him...it.  
  
I had a head wound and a horrendous leg wound too. If it hadn't been for Teal'C and Jack...seems like they're always saving my ass these days. I feel like a burden.  
  
Today, the alliance fell apart. My father walked out of my life once again. He's so good at it, it's what he does best.  
  
The first time was when I was 15 and my mother died. He didn't leave physically – he didn't walk out of the door. He just left emotionally and mentally, at the time when I needed him most.  
  
And again, when he had cancer.  
  
He's gone now, and I might never see him again. I needed him at 15, I needed him at 29, and I still need him at 35.  
  
I just need him.  
  
I have Pete, some of the time.  
  
I have SG-1, all of the time, but I hate loading up their already troubled minds with insignificant feelings of my own.  
  
I love my dad, always have. And I've always hated how he leaves.  
  
This war is more than our relationship, I understand that, I accept it. It will eventually claim our lives. But knowing that doesn't stop me feeling alone.  
  
I'm sitting here, now, in the infirmary. Safe, clean and warm. But I am in incredible pain, and I'm a mess.  
  
I'm such a mess.  
  
But I won't tell.  
  
I won't tell them.  
  
I can't.  
  
Never could ask for help.  
  
Feedback welcomed, no flames please. I appreciate help in improving my writing, but flames are not called for. 


	2. Not Alone

"Hey Teal'C," Jack smiled as they passed each other in the corridor. Teal'C bowed his head.

"Samantha-Carter looked very unwell when we found her," The Jaffa stated.

"She looked terrible. She went through a lot. That woman is one tough cookie," Jack agreed. Teal'C could see how worried his friend of 7 years was.

"Have you visited her yet, O'Neill?" He asked. "I was not permitted to see her as she was sleeping through her twenty first hour."

Jack whistled, "That is one long snooze! I'm worried. I'm on my way over there now. One things for sure, her news from Dad isn't going to help any."

"Indeed. Please inform her I shall visit later," Teal'C requested. The Colonel smiled and patted him on the back.

He arrived to find she was still asleep. She had woken up an hour after she had gotten back, but soon fell asleep again. He grinned. She looked so peaceful and care free, like she deserved to be. She looked like an angel.

There was no one around, so he sat down at her side. He noticed a book resting on her stomach. He carefully picked it up, catching a glimpse of the contents. It wasn't a book, he realised, it was a diary. It was personal.

But it had been left open.

He was worried, and and he knew she'd never tell him even if she was dying inside.

His jaw dropped as he read the words she had recently written. She thought she was a burden, she was lonely, and she was in pain.

He closed the book and laid it on the side. He got up and left the base, knowing he needed to help his best friend. Best friend. His best friend called him 'sir,' or 'colonel.' But in her diary, he noticed she had called him Jack. He wished she could call him that.

* * *

Samantha Carter opened her eyes to find what was becoming a rather usual sight to her. The dull, empty infirmary. Of course it was empty, it was Sunday, or at least, she thought it was. People were off having Sunday dinner with their families.

She groaned as all the pain flooded back.

Alone again, she sighed.

But then she looked up to see the Colonel, poking his head around the door with a huge boyish grin on his face. "Hi sleepyhead."

"Hi," she smiled weakly. "You gonna come in?"

"Close your eyes," he told her.

"What?"

"Close 'em," he repeated. She closed them, wondering what he was up to. "Open them," he told her, a few seconds later. He was now sat beside her, a trolley nearby.

"A trolley...gee..." Sam joked. "Sir, it's Sunday. Go home."

"Not a trolley," he said, "And no. I give the orders." He lifted up the sheet to reveal two plates of something expensive-looking, and two diet sodas.

"What's the occasion?" she wondered.

"You are," he smiled, taking her hand in his.

"What?"

"I know you feel alone, Sam. I know you're going through a lot. But never be afraid to talk to us. You're no burden. You can always talk to me. I'm your friend. From girl stuff to alien stuff, I'm your guy. You need a shoulder, it's me," he told her, squeezing her hand. He let go and brought the trolley closer.

"Thank you sir," she sniffed.

"It's the weekend, Sam, and you have a head injury. I think we can overlook a few Jacks," he winked, helping her prop herself up. "I thought you could use a good meal. You've practically been living off of that infirmary slop for two months now. You're in and out of this place. And you're getting very thin again..."

"I was fat?"

"No...you were exactly right. Healthier looking. But, I guess, you were healthier," he babbled. "Come on, it's getting cold." He moved the table and put the tray down on it. "There you are," he said, placing a knife and fork down too.

"What is it?" She grinned.

"I don't me sixty bucks though, so it has to be something good. Duck, perhaps?" he shrugged, prodding his...meat.

"You spent $60 on this, for me?" Sam was stunned.

"I gotta eat don't I?"

"Right," she nodded, tucking in. "Thank you sir."

"Jack," he corrected her.

"Jack."

"Teal'C is coming to see you later," he recalled. "He's worried."

"Really?"

"I told him not to, but you know Jaffa..."

Feedback welcomed, no flames please. I appreciate help in improving my writing, but flames are not called for.


End file.
